


Gravid Julian is Ruining Garak's Life

by meh_guh



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Mpreg, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4875037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meh_guh/pseuds/meh_guh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian's been putting a little weight on recently. Garak's rapidly going around the bend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravid Julian is Ruining Garak's Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atavistique (Rivers)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivers/gifts).



> Alternate from Body Parts in season 4; Bashir implanted the O'Brien baby in himself instead of Kira.

The first time he smelled it on Julian, Garak dismissed it as scent-transfer from one of the dozens of starry-eyed patients the doctor treated. The second time, he found himself frowning; the scent was much stronger, which would have entailed prolonged and probably intimate contact, especially to be so noticeable what had to be hours later. 

The _third_ time Garak slipped into Julian's personal space and caught a noseful of _gravid female_ , he felt his control start to slip. 

'I'm disappointed, Doctor,' he settled a hand on Julian's back, scandalously close to where the neck ridges would start on a Cardassian. 'I never would have thought you a cuckold.' 

'What?' Julian turned to blink at him, huge eyes and soft lips a tantalising torture. He didn't even flush at Garak's proximity any more, which was a crying shame. 'Why on Earth would you think I'm cuckolding someone?' 

Garak leaned in to take a deep whiff, the tip of his nose brushing Julian's neck. 'Because I smell a brooding female on you, and it's far too strong to be from examining one.' 

'Oh,' Julian _did_ blush at that, and his hand came up to rest protectively over his belly. 'Well, it was the only medically-sound option available, since it was a choice between me and Kira. And the foetus is doing well enough there's no benefit and far too great a risk to transfer it again, so...' 

He gave Garak one of his sunniest smiles, and Garak stared as Julian's thumb started making soothing circles on his own abdomen, as though he were stroking- 

'You can't mean _you_ are gravid?!' Garak burst out, all his attention focussed on Julian's stomach. 

'In mammals, it's called “pregnant”,' Julian said, and Garak felt a burst of pride at the teasing smile in Julian's tone. 'And yes.' 

Garak reached out for Julian's stomach, but jerked back before he could touch. 

'It's all right,' Julian took Garak by the wrist and pressed his palm over a slight bulge Garak had been attributing to Julian's recent overindulgence in cakes. 'It's in the middle of the second trimester; hardly bigger than your hands.' 

With a great effort of will, Garak did not curl his fingers into the newly-soft curve of Julian's belly. Instead, he smirked and raised an eye ridge. 

'So who is the lucky father, then? I confess, I had thought humans to be a binary sex division, but clearly I was misinformed.' 

Julian frowned. 'Hadn't you heard about Keiko's accident? It was an emergency, and since Bajoran uteri are not suited to human foetuses, I had to replicate some tissue and talk Kira through surgery on myself. It was an interesting experience,' Julian gave Garak a rueful smile. 'But I don't think I'd like to repeat it. Though I will be writing several papers on the experience; the sample size is hardly statistically relevant, but at the very least it's socio-psychologically fascinating.' 

'That...' Garak blinked a few times as he turned the information over in his mind. Through the shock, one kernel of information rattled its way to the front. 'Do you mean to tell me you are carrying _**Chief O'Brien's** baby?!_' 

The background buzz of the Promenade abruptly vanished, and Garak cursed himself mentally as several hundred Bajorans and Ferengi and the Guls only knew what other races turned their attention on him. 

Julian grinned, clearly relishing Garak's shock and perturbation. 'He's a wonderful helpmeet. So very attentive.' 

Garak, with great effort, reined himself in and gave Julian his best attempt at a smirk. 'I can't picture Keiko taking that with good grace. I _do_ hope you aren't at her mercy.' 

'Oh, no,' Julian smiled down at his stomach and Garak indulged in another burst of fierce envy. 'She's actually asked me to have nightly dinners with them. I'm looking forward to family dinners; it can get a little lonely in solo quarters, always eating alone if you don't make the effort to find a date.' 

'Ah,' Garak made a show of noticing one of Quark's new Dabo Girls examining his window display and made his exit. 

It was that or seize Julian over his shoulder and lock him up in Garak's quarters away from the blasted O'Briens. 

**** 

Garak and Julian did not, ordinarily, see much of each other outside their weekly lunch date. This was a good thing, as Garak was a firm believer in the value of a limited indulgence. Scarcity increased perceived value and the delicious torture of denying oneself something dearly-coveted was an excellent self-control test. 

Now that Julian was carrying another man's child, however, Julian was wandering past his shop front every day for lunch. Accompanied, always, by both Keiko and O'Brien crowded against him, their hands brushing his arms and growing belly as they walked down the Promenade to the Replimat. 

The first day, Garak tamped down a growl and forced his attention back to cutting the fabric for Lieutenant M'Krall's cocktail dress. 

The second day, he delayed his own lunch break until the trio meandered past his door, Keiko's arm wrapped around Julian's back and her hand rubbing circles just over his hip. Garak employed no fewer than three of Tain's techniques to regain his composure and slipped through the crowd after them. O'Brien thankfully refrained from pawing at Julian, but his body language screamed Protective Male as he placed himself between Julian and the rest of the station. Garak bared his teeth and only just managed to turn it into a bland smile as Odo stepped into the crowd from his office. 

Garak made a nonchalant withdrawal in the face of Odo's hard stare and made do with the tiny, broken replicator in his shop. 

The third, fourth, and fifth days, Garak just ground his teeth as the O'Briens' respect for Julian's personal space decreased to non-existent. On the sixth day, when not only Keiko, but O'Brien as well had their hands on Julian's swelling belly as the three of them swept past wreathed in smiles, Garak's hand clenched so hard his laser cutter whined, cracked and died. He snarled at the crushed casing and threw the unit into the recycle, then slammed his shutters closed and retreated to the back room. 

It was a _travesty!_ Garak let his lips curl, bared his teeth like he'd spent the last week aching to. Julian ought to be heavy with _Garak's_ child, not that oik O'Brien's! 

He stormed the five steps across his back room back and forth, over and over. The O'Briens had no claim on Julian; Keiko was clearly recovered enough to take the child back now! If she'd made the slightest effort to reclaim her baby, Julian would have given it back, but they were obviously too enamoured of their pretty plaything to do the right thing. It was pure greed preventing them from releasing Julian, Garak was sure of it. Their perverted covetousness was shocking, not to mention entirely unfair! 

He thrust his hands into his hair and dug his nails into his scalp as he panted his anger out. _No screaming, stifle every sound you cannot suppress entirely and compose yourself before anyone sees your weakness_ , Tain's voice reminded him. 

Not that Tain had ever given such advice, but the instruction in his own voice had never been as effective as borrowing Tain's. Garak snarled silently at the wall and set about calming himself down. 

Five minutes later, Garak had regained enough control to smooth his appearance down and start to plan how to get Julian out of the O'Briens' bed and finally into his own. 

**** 

'Risky...' Quark grinned and put the glass he'd been polishing for show down. 'The Federation doesn't like people going off camera.' 

Garak drew out a few strips of gold-pressed latinum and tapped them idly on the bar top. 'The Federation dislikes the open market. Shame that such restrictions are placed on your business dealings, Quark.' 

Quark's eyes followed the gold as Garak flipped one of the strips over his fingers. 'Everything is negotiable. But added risk means inflated price. It'll be my head if Odo catches you running whatever it is you can't run in business hours.' 

' _Both_ our heads,' Garak said and placed the strips on the bar. 'How much?' 

Quark sucked his teeth and turned to survey the room. Garak let his smirk widen; he'd made certain of Odo's absence through a series of small but concerning acts of sabotage of the secondary electrical systems in one of the lower pylons. Nothing that would cause actual damage, but calculated to seem to be the work of one of Quark's many black market competitors. Odo had seemed quite driven to root out the latest smuggling ring, so Garak was confident he and Quark wouldn't be interrupted. 

'A bar a night,' Quark smiled. 'And ten as collateral for when Odo breaks the holosuite arresting you.' 

Garak laughed. '”When”? Quark, I thought you had more faith in me than that? Five strips a night.' 

'My faith is reserved for latinum, not people,' Quark said. 'Seventeen a night, and five bars collateral.' 

'Ten strips a night, no collateral, but I will pay for thirty nights in advance,' Garak leaned over the strips into Quark's face. 'And you, of course, keep the lot regardless of _when_ Odo leads me away in chains.' 

Quark whistled under his breath. 'I always knew you were a man of means, Garak. Ten a night it is. With sales tax and brokerage fees, that comes to an even twenty bars.' 

Garak felt a spark of fond irritation at being charged a tax on a thoroughly illegal transaction. Luckily, even this price did not make too serious a dent in his stash. 'Twenty bars, then. I'll be starting tonight.' 

'You can start whenever you like once I receive my latinum,' Quark smiled wide and benevolent. 'I'm sure you know where to deliver it.' 

Garak bowed and turned, then paused to say over his shoulder, letting a healthy dose of menace seep through his tone 'Quark? By “no recordings” I mean not even to assuage your own curiosity. And trust me when I say I shall know if you try.' 

'Of course, of course,' Quark said, gratifyingly nervous and struggling to hide the fact. 'All the cameras will be looped.' 

'Good,' Garak took a moment to pull his Affable Tailor persona back on, then went back to his shop to put the finishing touches on his holoprogram. 

**** 

Some hours later, Garak looked up from sewing the hem on a delightful pair of trousers to find Julian grinning down at him, one hand rubbing over his rounded belly. 

'Don't tell me you've forgotten our standing date, Garak,' Julian wagged a finger at him. 'I'm eating for two now, you know. It's not polite to keep a pregnant man waiting for food.' 

'My _dear_ Doctor,' Garak laid his tools down and gave Julian his widest, most open smile. 'I could never forget. I did, however, lose track of time. One moment and I'll be at your disposal.' 

He tidied everything away and herded Julian out of the shop with a hand on the small of Julian's back exactly where Keiko had been plastering _her_ small hand all week. This close, Garak couldn't help but smell O'Brien-and-Keiko twining through the scent of Julian-and-baby. He managed not to growl, just subtly rubbed his hand along Julian's back to replace the intruder scents with his own. 

'Have you had a chance to listen to that playlist I gave you?' Julian asked, leaning into Garak's hand with a happy sigh. 'Your hand's so warm; I knew pregnancy put strain on the lower back, but I hadn't realised how much...' 

Garak rubbed Julian's back a little harder and was rewarded with an almost pornographic groan. 'I'm afraid I couldn't listen to more than the first few songs, Doctor. Is _everything_ your planet produced so aggressively, blatantly chipper? Or is it merely your own preferences driving your recommendations?' 

Julian laughed and reached back to press Garak's hand flat against a slightly different area of his back. 'Is everything _your_ planet produced as impenetrable and depressing as what you've provided me, or are your own preferences getting in the way?' 

Garak steered Julian over to the replicators and brushed full-length against him to whisper in his ear. 'My preferences are wide-ranging, Julian. If indeed they are driving my selections, you can rest assured you are still getting the gamut of the Kardassi experience.' 

Tragically, Julian no longer shivered or flushed or stammered when Garak flirted so outrageously; Garak wasn't even certain whether Julian even _noticed_ any more. 

'That _is_ reassuring, Garak,' Julian gave him a brilliant smile and turned his attention to deciding on his lunch. 

Garak placed his own order absently, most of his attention on covering Julian with his own scent without making it obvious to the whole replimat what he was doing. He trailed Julian to their usual table; the well-worn argument about the Enigma Tales didn't need any actual attention from either him or Julian now. He concentrated on not staring at Julian's belly. 

'Would you like to touch it again?' Julian asked, eyes dancing as he cleared the last of the greenery off his plate and picked up his Tarkalean Tea. 

'Pardon?' Garak blinked stupidly at him. 

'The baby,' without asking again, Julian took Garak's hand and pressed it over the growing curve of another man's child. 'You've been staring.' 

'I have _not_!' Garak said, but his hand brushed over the distended line of Julian's uniform and he didn't try to pull away. 

Julian grinned and sipped at his tea. 'Of course not. My mistake.' 

**** 

'The _nerve_ of the pair of them!' Garak picked up a pair of scissors and hurled them at the wall as soon as the shutters had closed completely. 

Of course O'Brien and Keiko weren't content smothering Julian in their scent; _of course_ they'd insisted he move in with them. Of _course_ Julian had been beyond ecstatic to accept their invitation. _Of course Julian would now positively **reek** of all three O'Briens as well as another man's offspring_. 

Garak bowed his head and concentrated on getting his breathing back under control. This was a setback, no doubt, but the only effect it had on his plans was to increase their urgency a little. The Plan would work. 

It was only early evening; nineteen hundred as the humans had it, so there were at least five hours before he could safely begin. 

Garak folded everything about Julian and the Plan into a neat bundle and turned his attention to filling some of his waiting orders. 

**** 

'Garak!' the simulated Julian looked up from an Enigma Tale with a wide, bright grin. 'Come in!' 

Garak stepped through the simulacrum of Julian's front door and gave the simulated Julian a shallow bow. 'Doctor. I hope I'm not intruding?' 

The simulated Julian, slim and energetic and untainted by O'Brien's scent, laughed. 'You could never! Can I get you a drink? Something to eat? It's late, and my replicator is only programmed with the absolute basics, but if you're hungry-' 

'No, no,' Garak held a hand up. 'I'm fine. I merely wanted to see you.' 

The simulated Julian's cheeks darkened and he looked up through his eyelashes. 'How flattering. You know, I programmed kanar into my replicator if you _did_ want a drink. It wasn't an easy recipe to teach the computer; I'd hate for my effort to be a wasted one.' 

Garak smiled. 'In that case, it seems churlish to refuse your thoughtful labours. A glass of kanar it is.' 

The simulated Julian flowed to his feet and passed Garak with a thrilling and artless brush of his hand down Garak's arm. He gave the replicator Garak's order and returned with a glass, the smirk and glance up through his eyelashes a wanton invitation even by human standards. 

Garak took the drink, but did not raise it to his lips; the illusion was too perfect to ruin with the staticky feel of holographic foods. 

Julian stayed close, as he usually did, and Garak reached out with his empty hand to stroke Julian's soft shoulder. He would ordinarily never have been so crass, but humans, it seemed, were congenitally incapable of subtlety. Julian shivered under his touch and closed his eyes. 

'Computer,' Garak said, frowning. 'Freeze program.' 

The simulated Julian went still and Garak tapped a nail against his kanar glass, sorting through the errors in this play through. 

Too pliant; Julian was hard work on the best of days, and the whole point of this exercise was to determine the best way of seducing the good doctor into Garak's bed and out of O'Brien's. A fantasy that sighed and fluttered and opened at the first press was not going to be helpful, and was nothing like what Garak would have wanted in an erotic game anyway. 

'Computer, adjust personality profile of the simulation: increase resistance to suggestion thirty per cent, increase sarcasm forty per cent. Play.' 

'Garak,' the simulated Julian stepped back and threw himself on the couch, smirk now a little cruel. 'It is rather late; not that I don't appreciate your company at _any_ hour of the day-' 

That was much better. Garak raised his glass to mostly-conceal a smirk of his own, relishing the way simulated Julian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. 

'-but I do have patients to see to in the morning.' 

'Nothing would pain me more than to inconvenience you, my dear doctor,' Garak placed his untasted kanar on the low table, taking the opportunity to send the simulated Julian a heated glance through his own eyelashes as he bent over. 'I merely thought you might like to discuss our latest exchanges. This Wilde fellow certainly seems more open to machinations than most of your previous recommendations, if a little frivolous.' 

'The whole _point_ of Oscar Wilde is his frivolity!' the simulated Julian replied, surging to his feet and stepping closer. 'The aesthetic of his plays was his fundamental appeal! He revelled in appearance for its own sake, and at the same time tore away the masks of polite society-' 

'Remarkably impolite of the man,' Garak smiled, licked his lips and took his own step forward. 'Appearances, after all, are sometimes the only real thing about a society.' 

The simulated Julian huffed and raised a hand to finger the dreadfully-chic Andorian pattern embroidered on the front of Garak's tunic. 'I suppose a man whose life's work is fashion would have to think that.' 

' _Doctor_ ,' Garak grinned. 'You are very cruel for a man who orders a new outfit from me every month! Shall I tear up the Vulcan formal shirt I've been making you for rags, then? Since fashion is so very far beneath you as a man of the world.' 

'Ha!' The simulated Julian flattened his hand against Garak's chest and leaned in, eyes bright. 'You, tear your own work?' 

Garak placed his free hand on the simulated Julian's collar, stroked his hand along the delicate line of holographic collarbone. 'This shirt is my work, is it not?' 

The simulated Julian's pupils had expanded so there was only a thin ring of hazel visible. 'Yes.' 

'Well then,' Garak gripped the fabric and tore the thin shirt all the way through the hem, revealing the simulated Julian's smooth chest. He let his fingers brush the room-tepterature simulated body, revelled in the strange texture of hair over silken skin. 'How's that for a start? It's surprisingly enjoyable tearing my own work, my dear. Destruction, especially violent destruction, is rather therapeutic.' 

The simulated Julian made a low growl and grabbed the back of Garak's head to pull him into a kiss. Garak pressed forward until the simulated Julian's knees hit the couch, then he tumbled them to the cushions. 

'Therapeutic,' Garak said, relishing the feel of Julian pressed beneath him. 'And _stimulating_.' 

'Planning to destroy me, Garak?' The simulated Julian bucked underneath him, erection a hard pressure against Garak's thigh. 'I'm tougher than you think.' 

Garak smiled, a vicious baring of teeth before he pressed forward to bite at Julian's mouth. This was divine. It was everything he hoped for. 

It was utterly useless. 

Garak sighed. 'Computer, freeze program.' 

The simulated Julian froze in place, half-lidded gaze so heated Garak was sorely tempted to resume the program and give in to the fantasy. But the point of the exercise was to determine the best way to seduce the _real_ Julian out of the O'Briens' bed, and delightful as this fantasy was it was a waste of time on that front. 

With a pang of reluctance, Garak stood up, brushed a finger down the simulated Julian's cheek and shut the holosuite down. 

He would have to redesign the program parameters in the morning. 

**** 

Garak managed to stifle a yelp as his distracted fuming about Julian led to scoring a micrometre-precise line along the back of his hand with the laser cutter instead of through the Andorian suede for Quark's new Dabo uniforms. It didn't start bleeding, but there was an ugly burn that had melted the scales and rendered closing his fist _remarkably_ painful. 

Garak glared at his hand. Well, at least it was lunchtime for the good doctor, so he would be free to duck into the infirmary and steal the use of a dermal regenerator without any awkward questions. He shut down the laser cutter, locked his shop and made his way through the lunchtime throng towards the infirmary. 

The duty nurse was laughably easy to evade as Garak ducked through the main area and let himself into Julian's office, but rather than the empty room he'd been expecting, Garak was confronted by a startled O'Brien who was _pawing at Julian's shirtless back._

There was no stopping the feral growl from escaping, even though O'Brien immediately stilled and lifted his hands away from Julian's smooth, oiled skin. Julian made a noise of protest and leaned back into O'Brien's now-still hands. 

'Miles why did you-' Julian turned his head and caught sight of Garak. 'Oh! Hello Garak! Did you need some-' 

Garak, too intent on glaring at O'Brien, jumped as Julian crossed the small room and grabbed his injured hand to bend over it. 

'Garak, how did you do this?' Julian frowned up at Garak, soft fingers stroking around the damaged scales. 'And why isn't Jabara treating you?' 

'I, ah...' Garak tore his gaze away from O'Brien and stared at the bared swell of Julian's stomach, the smooth planes of his chest. He inhaled deeply, concentrating on the sweet musk of Julian-and-baby and ignoring the smell of O'Brien-and-Keiko that twined ever closer through Julian's base-scent. 'That is-' 

'Never mind,' Julian gave him a crooked smile and opened a drawer to pull out the dermal regenerator Garak had meant to... borrow. 'I suppose you may have a point avoiding Bajoran mercies, even if I think my staff are professional enough only to glare while treating you. Laser cutter, was it? You should be more careful; one millimetre deeper and you'd have suffered nerve and tendon damage.' 

'I have every faith in your ability to fix even deeper damage, my dear,' Garak countered, bringing his uninjured hand up to cup Julian's biceps. 'A moment's lapsed attention, nothing more.' 

Julian grinned at him and finished repairing the scales. They remained a little shiny, and Garak could tell that his next shedding would be an interesting experience since mammalian medical technology was sadly inefficient for repairing scales, but there was no trace of pain left. Not even the mild ache of overexertion in his fingers and wrist he'd taken to ignoring. 

'Regular check ups would allow me to correct muscle strains and inflammations,' Julian said in response to Garak's surprise. 'I know you don't trust anyone, but I can't imagine what harm you imagine me capable of with a dermal regenerator. 

Garak let the hand on Julian's arm slide towards his naked shoulder. 'My dear, I have enormous faith in you and your resourcefulness. I imagine you would be quite capable of devastating harm armed only with your smile.' 

'I'll...' O'Brien coughed, face flushed an unattractive puce as he edged behind Julian, one hand absently brushing across Julian's lower back. 'I'd best be getting back to work, Julian.' 

'Oh,' Julian turned from Garak to pout at O'Brien. 'But... All right. I'll see you at home?' 

O'Brien nodded and fled without looking at Garak. 

Julian's shoulders drooped and he reached back to rub at the patch of skin just above his pants. 'Ooh, this is uncomfortable.' 

Seeing his chance, Garak raised his freshly-healed hand to stroke the smooth line of Julian's neck. 'I have no urgent need to return to my shop. Perhaps I can take over where the Chief left off, if you need assistance?' 

Julian's face brightened to a degree that was almost painful to witness. 'That would be _marvellous_. It's my lower back, you see? The pregnancy puts a great deal of strain on the muscles and the vertebrae and I can't massage the tension out myself.' 

'It would be my pleasure,' Garak said; the single most truthful statement he had made in his entire life. 'And the least I could do as thanks.' 

Julian grinned and turned to brace his hands on the edge of his desk, feet a little wider than shoudler-bredth apart and bending a little to present the most tempting and glorious invitation. Garak inhaled sharply and did _not_ pounce. 

'The oil's over by the storage cabinet,' Julian said, rolling his shoulders and letting his head drop forward. 'Start with a gentle pressure, please; I'll let you know if I want it harder.' 

Garak curled his fingers into his palms for three breaths, then he fetched the bottle of oil and approached Julian's back. 

'I take it the... pregnancy is progressing well?' Garak poured a liberal portion of the oil into his palm, then placed his hand over Julian's spine. 'Is this need for massage a typical one amongst humans?' 

He spread his hands over Julian's back, rested his palms against the too-cool skin for a moment before flexing his fingers into the flesh. Julian let out a positively indecent groan and pushed himself into Garak's hands with abandon. 

'Human pregnancies,' Julian said as Garak increased the pressure of his thumbs on either side of Julian's spine. 'Come with a wide variety of discomforts which I swear never to dismiss or downplay again. A little harder on the left, if you would.' 

Garak pressed his thumb into Julian's tense back and was rewarded with a pornographic groan and Julian shuddering under his hands. 

'Oh god, _yes_ ,' Julian moaned, pressing himself back into Garak's hands. ' _Don't stop._ ' 

'I have no intention of stopping, my dear,' Garak said, sweeping his palms up the line of Julian's spine and admiring the glistening trails his hands left along the smooth skin. 'I am at your disposal as long as you need.' 

'I think,' Julian moaned again. 'I may need you to keep doing that until the baby comes. You're _very_ good at that...' 

Garak smiled and swept his hands back up to scent-mark Julian more thoroughly. He brushed down the long line of Julian's neck, the solid muscles of his shoulders, then back down to his waist. The tension there was greater than the rest of Julian's torso, and it was ostensibly what Garak was doing, so he concentrated on working his thumbs into the knots there while he revelled in their now-mixing scents. It was remarkable how open to marking Humans were; Julian had not made a single move to keep Garak from rubbing his scent into Julian's neck or the scent-points along his spine. Garak hadn't managed to completely smother the O'Briens' scent, but the fact that Julian was so clearly open to being marked- 

'Doctor, there's a-' the duty nurse jerked away from the doorway, her nose wrinkling further in shock and displeasure. 'Oh.' 

Garak stepped back and folded his hands behind his back, pulling his familiar blandly-pleasant expression over his annoyance at the interruption as Julian straightened and reached for his shirt. 

'Break over, is it?' Julian gave Garak a rueful smile. 'No rest for the wicked, I'm afraid. Thank you, Garak. You have a healer's touch.' 

Garak returned Julian's smile with interest; he found it so very charming when Julian teased him. 'My dear, I am at your disposal whenever you wish for a continuation.' 

The nurse's scowl deepened, but Julian just laughed and clapped a hand on Garak's shoulder. 

'I'll take you up on that some time,' Julian turned his attention to the nurse. 'Now, Jabara. What is it? Nothing urgent, I trust?' 

Jabara turned her scowl towards Garak without answering, and Garak gave her a shallow bow. 'If you'll excuse me, Doctor, I have an order of Dabo uniforms to fill. Thank you for the treatment.' 

He slipped past the Bajoran nurse and retreated to his work room without reopening the shop. He ignored the Andorian suede lying on the table and pulled up the code for the holoprogram. 

His earlier rage at the liberties O'Brien was taking had faded into fresh resolve. So O'Brien was taking further advantage than expected; Garak clearly _was_ a match so long as he increased his “accidental” encounters with Julian. 

**** 

The third time Odo passed Garak's shop that afternoon, Garak darted a hand out to catch the constable's elbow and pulled him inside. 

'I have some fabulous Orion satin if you're thinking of adding some variety to your wardrobe, constable,' he gave Odo his brightest customer-service smile. 'Or the latest in synthetic T'Klenik from Vulcan might be an interesting experience for your new nerve endings? As underwear it would be something else entirely.' 

Odo pulled his arm out of Garak's grip and gave him one of the narrowest of his stares. 'I may not be a shapeshifter any longer, Garak, but I _am_ still capable of doing my job.' 

'Why,' Garak affected deep shock. 'Whoever has been insinuating otherwise?' 

Odo snorted and shook his head before stepping back onto the Promenade. 'I have my eye on you, Garak. Don't think I won't figure out what you're up to.' 

'Constable,' Garak beamed at him. 'If I _were_ up to anything, I am certain you would stop me before long.' 

With another snort, Odo strode off and left Garak to consider whether to cut his experiment short. It was true he was doing nothing illegal; not even anything the good constable could claim was contrary to his precious sense of justice. But Garak was less than sanguine about Odo's probable reaction if he found some way to observe Garak in the holosuite... 

Garak dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. He would follow his plan through, Julian would realise he belonged with Garak, and Odo would doubtless find something Quark was doing distracting enough not to bother hounding Garak. 

Perhaps he'd even start on a pair of bloomers in the Orion satin to present Odo with. A peace offering to a friend. 

Presented somewhere public, of course. 

**** 

Garak's next night in the holosuites, he decided to take his cue from the myriad Earth romances Julian had foisted on him. 

Poetry seemed to be a recurring theme, along with chocolate and saccharine sentiments. 

Cardassian poetry tended towards the love of the State, however, or singing the praises of Kardassi love stories. Julian had been soundly unimpressed by the glorious romance of Gul Hessan and the rebel Ji, scornful of Yammi and Joranik, and critical even of the dramatic and multigenerational romance in _The Neverending Sacrifice_. Reluctantly, Garak had the computer pull some of the more insipid quotations for him, and spent a regretful afternoon memorising cloying, unsubtle sentiments from Human literary tradition. 

He set the holoprogram to start in the corridor outside the O'Briens' quarters, called for a box of Denavian chocolates and a bouquet of some sort of flowers called “roses” (overly-scented things with hardly any protective features, no wonder they were a staple of Human courtship), then he rang the chime. 

The simulated O'Brien opened the door, his glower familiar enough for Garak to feel almost fond of it. 'Yes?' 

'I was after the good doctor,' Garak gave the simulated O'Brien a bright smile. 'Is he available?' 

True to his real counterpart's form, the simulated O'Brien snorted and turned away without replying. The door slid shut in Garak's face, also true to form. He relaxed a little; this simulation should be manifestly useful. 

The door slid open again just a moment later to reveal the simulated Julian looking concerned and rubbing a hand over his belly. 'Garak? Is there something wrong?' 

'Only that my days are cursed with your absence,' Garak said, holding out his offerings. 'My dearest doctor, for you.' 

The simulated Julian took the flowers and candy with a smile that started confused, then brightened to joyful. 'Garak! What's the occasion?' 

' _Doubt thou the stars are fire_ ,' Garak pitched his voice low, both for the way it led the simulated Julian to lean in close and for his bone-deep shame at uttering the insipid sentiment. ' _Doubt that the Sun doth move his aides-_ ' 

' _Hamlet_ , Garak?' the simulated Julian's eyes sparkled. 'You're quoting Hamlet to woo me?' 

'Well,' Garak pursed his lips to keep the discomfort he was already feeling from showing. He pressed on. 'The play and its characters were laughably childish, but the sentiment seemed to fit. Would you prefer _Are you in your chamber where the shrine of virtue has been placed in your honour, and upon which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice_? Or perhaps _turn your eyes from me, for they overwhelm me!_ I had to seek that poet out myself; it was in one of your holy books, I believe. I looked up what a goat was, but I'm afraid I may need some assistance understanding how hair could be like a flock of them. It didn't seem a terribly flattering comparison-' 

The simulated Julian dropped the flowers and candy and threw himself into Garak's arms to press kisses along the line of Garak's jaw from his ear to the corner of Garak's mouth. ' _How sweet I roam'd from field to field, and tasted all of Summer's pride 'til the prince of love beheld-_ ' 

'Computer, freeze program,' Garak sighed and pulled the simulated Julian's arms from around his shoulders. He stared into the unmoving delighted face and took a deep breath. 'End program. Wipe this session.' 

The hallway, Julian, the scattered chocolates and discarded flowers all vanished, leaving Garak to stare at the lines on the floor. Even if that approach really worked, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to keep up the human version of romance for more than a few months. Better not to enter into this with false expectations; if he was to win Julian it would have to be as himself. 

The Cardassian manner of... wooing, Garak felt his lips twist at the word, had been unsuccessful. The human manner was unsustainable. He would have to come up with some sort of blended approach; individuality and sweetness as Julian would expect paired with debate and deception enough for Garak to feel comfortable. 

No poetry, then, unless it held hidden meanings. He would wipe the ghastly Earth drivel from his console as soon as he returned to his quarters. Gifts were acceptable, though. Garak felt certain he could come up with an excuse for giving them flimsy enough for Julian to see through after a moment's thought. The lure of a mystery had, after all, been instrumental in getting and keeping Julian's attention the past four years. 

Of course, Garak let himself out of the holosuite, he would need to act quickly. No doubt the O'Briens were even now placing their hands all over Julian, pawing at his soft skin. Pressing their unwanted bodies against his naked flesh and luring him further from Garak- 

Garak stopped and concentrated on evening out his breathing. It did no good imagining all the myriad ways the O'Briens could be abusing Julian's trusting nature. He simply had to come up with a plan, and do so quickly. 

**** 

Coming up with an appropriately-curly lie was distracting enough that Garak went to the Replimat at his usual lunch time without thinking. He rapped his fingers against the replicator casing, musing whether to choose fish with yamok sauce or one of the spicy Earth Chinese meals Julian had introduced him to, when he heard a very familiar groan. 

Unable to stop himself, Garak swung around to look. At his and Julian's table, Julian was leaning back with his bare feet in O'Brien's lap, his uniform trousers rolled up past his knees. O'Brien was bent over Julian's feet, running his pale hands over Julian's bare leg. 

Of all the _blatant_ \- 

Garak clutched at his knee and swore, his distraction having led to him walking into a table. The table's Bolian occupants blinked up at him in irritation, but turned their attention back to their meals when Garak muttered an apology and retreated. 

A quick glance over at Julian let Garak know that neither Human had noticed him, and also that Julian was now slumped wantonly in his chair. Eyes closed, mouth open and head back as O'Brien worked yet more of his scent into Julian's legs, the good doctor seemed to be moaning encouragements. 

Garak stared in outraged envy for a few heavy breaths, then he swivelled and marched for the turbolift. 

Operations was quiet when he arrived; Kira shooting him a glare but not objecting when he took the stairs to Sisko's office door. Garak ran his palms over his chest to smooth his appearance, then he pressed the chime. 

'Yes?' Sisko said, the doors opening to reveal him seated behind his desk, a stack of padds awaiting his approval by his elbow. 'Mr Garak, what can I do for you?' 

'Ah,' Garak flashed his best engaging smile at Sisko's politely-blank face. 'Captain. I wonder if I might have a word about the... decorum of two of your officers?' 

Sisko placed his stylus on the desk with a small _tink_. 'Their... decorum?' 

'Yes,' Garak smiled again, but he could feel the expression going feral, so he coughed and turned his head. 'I've just seen Chief O'Brien _rubbing_ Doctor Bashir's _ankles_. In _public!_ ' 

'Indeed?' Sisko said, tone utterly flat. 'And what would you like me to do about it?' 

'Ah. Well,' a little of Garak's lust-fueled rage retreated, allowing him to reflect on his actions. He might, he allowed, have misjudged a little. '...instruct the Chief not to?' 

Sisko stared at him, his unblinking eyes easily as unsettling as Garak knew his own to be when he was not making a concerted effort to seem harmless. Garak sighed and inclined his head, turned around and left. The doors snicked shut behind him, the lock engaging audibly as the final cue not to bother the captain. 

Garak spent a moment running over his actions, noting his errors and making a mental note to make allowances for his apparent irrationality. He then dismissed the whole thing from his attention, gave Kira his most irritating sunny smile and returned to the Replimat to eat and plot. 

**** 

That night, Garak started the simulation outside the O'Briens' quarters again, and had the exact same encounter with the simulated O'Brien as the previous night. 

'Garak!' the simulated Julian said, once the simulated O'Brien had retreated back inside. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?' 

Garak beamed and reached out to take the simulated Julian by the elbows. 'It is _ss'chi Takra_ , my dear. A Cardassian festival.' 

'Oh?' the simulated Julian looked delighted. 'And what does this festival celebrate?' 

Garak affected shock, overplaying it for effect. 'My _dearest_ doctor! Have I never explained _ss'chi Takra_ to you?' 

'No,' the simulated Julian mirrored Garak's expression mockingly, then grinned. 'Is it a harvest festival? If there's dancing I'm afraid I'm not exactly up to it right now.' 

'Will you walk with me, doctor?' Garak loosened his hold on the simulated elbows and crooked his arm. 'I've read that gentle exercise is very beneficial to pregnant people, and I can tell you all about the traditions of _ss'chi Takra_ as we walk.' 

The simulated Julian laughed and slipped his hand through Garak's arm. 'A late-night turn around the promenade? You won't mind the waddling pace?' 

'My very dearest Julian,' Garak curled his free hand over the simulated one resting on his forearm. 'The slower we walk, the longer I have with you. How could I object?' 

The simulated Julian grinned, giving Garak one of his trademark flirtatious glances. 'I'm sure you can find something to criticise. I wouldn't know what to do with you without the bickering.' 

Garak curled his fingers a little tighter into the beautifully-firm muscles of the simulated Julian's forearm. 'The only criticism I ever have is that you cruelly limit my contact with you.' 

The simulated Julian threw his head back and laughed, tugging on Garak's arm to get him moving. They strolled at a very enjoyable pace through the empty simulated corridors towards the Promenade, Garak revelling in the feel of Julian's hands on his _'ttarr_ ridge. It was not, strictly speaking, an erogenous zone but Garak could count the number of times he'd been touched with gentle hands in single digits. The soft pressure of a simulated hand on his forearm was enough to set a low thrum of pleasure reverberating through him. 

'So,' the simulated Julian said when their steps had fallen into a matching rhythm. 'What's the festival we're celebrating about?' 

Garak beamed at him. 'It's a day where young Cardassians spend time with those whom they wish to know better. And when old Cardassians such as myself reflect on those for whom they hold the greatest fondness.' 

'Oh?' the simulated Julian's fingers traced a delightfully maddening pattern over Garak's _'ttarr_ ridge. 'So it's a holiday for friends?' 

'Not quite,' Garak led the simulated Julian over to the window just in time for the burst of multicoloured light of the wormhole to flare. 'The fondness I refer to is of a more... romantic nature. 

Surprised pleasure flashed on the simulated Julian's face. 'Indeed? Cardassians _do_ romance, do they?' 

'With the same zeal we apply to every aspect of our lives,' Garak slipped a little closer and slipped his arms around the simulated Julian to pull him flush against Garak. 'It is not, perhaps, very much like the human version, but I have always taken you for an adventurous man, my dear.' 

The simulated Julian grinned and slid his own arms along Garak's arms and over his neck ridges. Garak shuddered as the simulated Julian pressed with the most erotic pressure, his smooth hands curling behind Garak's skull and pulling him forward into a kiss. 

Triumphant, Garak grinned and deepened the kiss, let his lips drag over the simulated Julian's jaw to his ear. 

'Computer,' he murmured, pressing his lips and teeth to the simulated Julian's pulse point. 'End program.' 

The Promenade vanished, followed by the simulated Julian and the wormhole. Garak straightened, pressing his fingertips to his smiling lips. _That_ was the correct approach. A quiet walk and a teasing manner would win Julian. Soft enough for Human sensibilities and sharp enough for Cardassian. 

Garak shut the Holodeck down, carefully clearing the logs and wiping every trace of his presence away. He'd need to run through at least once more, of course, to ensure he could anticipate every detail. But with perseverance, by this time next week Julian would be his. 

Humming a victory march, Garak went to bed. 

**** 

The next evening, Garak let himself into the O'Briens' quarters without bothering with O'Brien himself. He could handle the man perfectly well without additional practice, and since it was _his_ simulation, Garak felt entitled to indulge himself just a little. 

'Oh, Garak!' The simulated Julian gave him a grateful smile. 'I'm having a little difficulty here; could you help me up?' 

Garak crossed to where the simulated Julian was seated on the O'Briens' sofa and took the simulated hands. 'Of _course_ , my dear doctor! I remain as ever entirely at your disposal.' 

He pulled the simulation to its feet, cradled its warm hands in his own. The simulated Julian groaned as it found its balance and leaned into Garak for support. Garak settled his hands on its waist and tried not to think too hard about the way the swollen belly pressed against him; he was _definitely_ not thinking about how perfect this scene would be when the real Julian swelled with Garak's child... 

With an effort, Garak drew himself back to his task and took a small step back so he could look into the simulated Julian's lovely eyes. 

'I've been reading about Human pregnancies,' he rubbed his thumbs against the tender skin of the simulated Julian's inner wrists. 

'Oh _have_ you indeed?' The simulated Julian's eyes twinkled. 'Thinking of adding “midwife” to your impressive resume?' 

‘Perhaps,’ Garak grinned. ‘If the whirlwind thrills of tailoring ever sour for me. My point had been going to be that I’ve read gentle exercise is most beneficial to the pregnant human.’

The simulated Julian sighed. ‘Very beneficial but dreadfully embarrassing at this size. Not to mention uncomfortable!’

Garak shifted closer to rub his hand over the usual point on the simulated Julian’s back. ‘Surely a slow turn around the Promenade wouldn’t cause you too much pain? Even in the company of your plain and simple friend? Not to _mention_ what day it is!’

The simulated Julian’s lips quirked. ‘And what day would that be, plain and simple Garak?’

Garak made a show of stopping rubbing the simulated Julian’s back and pretending great surprise. ‘You mean I haven’t told you about _ss'chi Takra_?’

‘Garak,’ the simulated Julian said, fond reproach in his tone. ‘You know very well you haven’t.’

‘Well, perhaps,’ Garak smoothed his fingers down the length of the simulated Julian’s spine. ‘But I have so few opportunities to surprise you these days, my dear. Can you blame me manufacturing one or two when I miss the expressions you make?’

The simulated Julian gave him a long look through his eyelashes. ‘I’m not sure I’ll survive if you start making things up to surprise me. Have pity on a pregnant man and tell me what this _ss'chi Takra_ is.’

‘Your accent is sublime,’ Garak said, pleased even though it wasn’t the real Julian. ‘How about we walk while I talk? We can go as slowly as you need, my dear. I am in no rush for anything save your company.’

The simulated Julian laughed and looped his hand through Garak’s elbow. ‘All right. Commence waddling!’

They left the O’Briens’ quarters and headed along the hall towards the Promenade, the simulated Julian moving at an even slower pace than in the previous simulation. Garak matched his stride and curled a solicitous arm around the simulated waist.

‘ _ss’chi Takra,_ ’ Garak said, bending close to the simulated Julian’s ear to murmur his false story. ‘Is a celebration of connections between people. A day to make declarations of...fondness and to mark the importance of that fondness.’

‘“Fondness”, Garak?’ the simulated Julian turned his head so their faces were an inch apart, a smile curling his lips and lighting his eyes. ‘You’re fond of me?’

‘How could I not be?’ Garak whispered, breathing shallowly to keep the illusion of the real Julian’s presence alive. Even on his shallowest inhalation, Garak caught a whiff of the impossible. He blinked and took a proper breath, nose dipping towards the simulated Julian’s neck.

‘Garak?’ the simulated Julian said, voice gone breathy and eager.

‘Computer, end simulation,’ Garak said. The promenade obediently disappeared, but Julian remained, his hands curling into the front of Garak’s jacket. Garak stared into Julian’s face, a mixture of startlement at getting caught and pride at Julian’s guile leaving him speechless.

Julian’s hands tightened in Garak’s jacket, then he muttered ‘sod it,’ and leaned forward to press his lips to Garak’s with his customary passion.

Garak opened to the assault, letting his hands slide along Julian’s flanks and over the swell of his belly, carefully gentle but covetous and greedy. Julian hitched a gasp into the kiss and let go of Garak’s jacket to press clever fingers into the ridge along Garak’s neck with expert pressure.

‘My _dear_ ,’ Garak pulled away, grinning helplessly. ‘If you keep that up I cannot be held responsible for my actions!’

‘R-r-r-eally?’ Julian rolled the rhotic in a purr and drummed his fingers like he was playing an instrument, the arhythmic pressure sending a bolt of pleasure through Garak’s entire ridge-network. ‘I’d crack your legendary self-control with just my fingers?’

‘ _Julian_ ,’ Garak gasped and brought his hands up to cup the beloved face. ‘My self-control is not even proof against your _smile_ , but could we perhaps retire somewhere less… industrial?’

Julian grinned. ‘We could go anywhere you want. It _is_ a holodeck, after all.’

Garak thought for a moment. He could take Julian to the sweetly-scented gardens in Lakat and lay him down on a bed of _k’tranii_. He could call up one of Quark’s Bajoran spa programmes or a Risan hotel suite or even an Earth lagoon from one of Julian’s more risque programmes.

Garak stroked his thumbs over Julian’s cheekbones and leaned his forehead against Julian’s. ‘Out of all the locations in this vast and varied universe, I would like to take you to my quarters, my dear.’

Julian smiled bright and broad and pressed his lips against Garak’s once more. ‘I would be _delighted_ , Garak.’

Garak took a deep breath, revelling in the mixing scent of their arousal. The reality was even more profoundly exciting than he’d ever imagined.

He took a step back and Julian’s hand, then they walked out of the empty holographic suite toward their new future.

**Author's Note:**

> Latinum denominations are: 100 slips is one strip, twenty strips is one bar, then there are bricks, but there was no set exchange rate for bars to bricks. 
> 
> Poetry quoted: Hamlet, as Julian recognised (Act 2, Scene 2, Hamlet to Ophelia), Khalil Gibran's 'A Lover's Call', and the Song of Solomon. Julian replies with William Blake 'How sweet I Roam'd'


End file.
